


Rhett's Secret Garden

by JennaLee



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Crack, Gangbang, I don't know, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other, Rhett really loves wood, Sex with a sentient tree, Tentacles, but also not really?, but not really, ficathon prompt, i think, please don't judge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:43:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/pseuds/JennaLee
Summary: Rhett has a very strange and fulfilling encounter with a very strange and magical plant.*Updated 2017 with NEW very nsfw art by dinkitandrhinkit!(Written for Rhink Fall Ficathon 2k16 - Prompt: Rhett has a conversation with a tree)





	

**Art by[dinkitandrhinkit](https://dinkitandrhinkit.tumblr.com/)**

  


  


  
****

It was a beautiful day to enjoy the outdoors. Autumn in Los Angeles was a dream, seventy to eighty degrees with sunshine and just cold enough at night to put him in mind of hot chocolate, scary movies, and late night cuddling under a blanket on the sofa with his wife. 

Rhett put on his favourite crimson hoodie and headed out onto his back porch, looking down upon his gardens with pride. The yard was far from immaculate - there were toys strewn about, and a basketball hoop perched at one end, and a single soccer goal without a net at the other - but it was well-crafted, and mostly by his own hands. Several neatly-trimmed trees provided the perfect amount of shade, and at the far end a charming fish pond was nestled between flowering bushes and leafy crawling vines. Setting his coffee down on the patio table, Rhett walked along the path around the pond, leaning down to pluck out unsightly weeds.

“You’re looking well,” Rhett said to the patch of purple and white sweet alyssum. “And you’re recovering nicely from being trampled on by Link yesterday,” he added to the evening primrose, with a little wince at the memory. “Oh hey, little guy,“ Rhett cooed at a new tiny sprout, in the voice he usually reserved for his dog. “You grew fast, didn’t you? Yes you did. And you,” he beamed with admiration as he patted his well-behaved and majestic white alder with its proud trunk and light-coloured bark. “You do so well, even in this drought.”

“I quite agree. Hardy things, they are.” 

Rhett whipped around, his heart in his throat, his cheeks already flushing a dull red from being caught talking to a tree.

The gate must have been unlocked, for it had swung slowly open to the sidewalk behind his house. A man stood outside the gate looking in, his face eerily white, as if made of marble. He looked like no living person Rhett had ever seen before. Though it was quite warm outside he wore a cloak buttoned high at his throat. His eyes were dark, nearly black, like shiny pools of oil. His expression was almost beatifically calm. Rhett’s first foolish impression was of an ancient medieval painting. 

“What a beautiful garden,” the man added, calm in the face of Rhett’s embarrassment.

“Thank you,” Rhett said with some reservation, frowning slightly.

“Are you Rhett McLaughlin?” the stranger asked, with a touch of surprise. 

Rhett was used to being recognized in public, but he didn‘t like being confronted in his own yard. Though he was suspicious that the man had been watching him on purpose, it was possible that he just happened to stop and look over, bemused by the sight of a grown man caressing his plants. And if the man looked a little strange, well, so what? That was no reason to be rude to somebody. “That’s me,” Rhett answered brightly, attempting a smile. “Do you watch my show?”

“I am certainly a fan of your work,” the man said simply, his eyes flicking up and down. “Oh yes. So unusual, but so…appealing. Well done. Well done, indeed.”

“Thank you.” Rhett tried to sound genuine. The man spoke oddly, his accent clipped and precise and unrecognizable. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Would you…like an autograph? I was just about to go back inside…”

“Actually, I have something for you instead,” the man told him, reaching inside his cloak. Rhett tensed, half-expecting the man to pull out some sort of weapon. Instead, he opened his palm slowly to reveal - a handful of seeds. 

“I have been waiting for the right person to come along so that I may pass these on,” he said simply. “Not everybody can appreciate the beauty of nature, the enigmatic and individual personalities of each and every plant and flower. But you do, don’t you?”

Rhett winced. “I, uh, I sure do. I love plants.”

“You love trees best.” It wasn’t a question.

“Well,” Rhett admitted, “they are pretty good company.” He forced a laugh at his own weak joke.

The man did not laugh. He nodded understandingly. “Autumn is a time of harvest,” he said. “A time to reap what one sows, if you will. It does not necessarily mean that new beginnings cannot happen as well. The seeds you hold should be planted immediately, if you desire a new friend that will thrive in your garden.”

“What will they grow into?” Rhett didn’t know much about plants that produced drugs, but it seemed like the man was almost talking in code words. Did he want Rhett to grow drugs for him?

“Something that you will enjoy very much,” was the evasive answer. “If you let yourself, that is. Oh, it’s not anything at all illegal, I assure you,” he hastily added at Rhett’s expression. “If one of the seeds takes root, you will end up with - for lack of a better word - a tree.”

“A tree?”

“A tree, such as you have never seen before.”

Rhett brightened at the thought of another tree to fill in the lonely place where he had to remove his damaged Japanese maple. It was difficult to grow them in near-desert biomes, and the drought conditions and water bans had finally struck a killing blow to his most sensitive plants.

“You are pleased with this gift?”

“Well, sure, but - What kind of tree is it? How much sunlight does it need? How big will it get? I can’t just - ”

“The place in the corner, there, where your lovely _acer palmatum_ once stood - that will do just fine, Mr. McLaughlin.”

Rhett stood with his mouth gaping open. _How did he know?_

“You have nothing to fear,” the man smiled. “You will not see me again. I do not make a habit of spying.”

“Well, um, that‘s great, I guess.” Rhett wondered how to end this awkward conversation. “Well - if that’s all…I think I’ll plant these and go inside.”

“Do enjoy your time in the garden, Rhett McLaughlin.” The man held out a hand, as smooth and white as his face. With some trepidation Rhett reached out and shook it. A pungent hot smell, like cloves and pepper, hit his nostrils as the man’s cloak fluttered. It was strange, but not entirely unpleasant. To the contrary, it seemed to make Rhett feel suddenly…very… _relaxed_. 

The smile Rhett gave this time was genuine, if a bit dazed.

“And remember, this gift is for you alone. You may find that your friends and family may look upon it and see nothing but a regular tree…an alder, for example, or a plain oak. Or they may see nothing at all. And they will certainly not be able to…appreciate its fine and unique qualities. You, who appreciates the beauty of plants so much, will have an entirely different experience…especially if you take care to come converse with it when there is nobody else in your house, or at night when you will not be interrupted.” 

And with those enigmatic words, the man bowed and walked away, cloak billowing.. Rhett watched him disappear around the curve of the road, then latched his gate and stood for a while, holding the seeds in a cupped hand. His head still felt foggy and he wondered if he had spent a little too much time in the sun.

A tree such as he had never seen before. What could that possibly mean? And why did the man sound so secretive?

He looked at the seeds again, and then at his garden.

“Well, it can’t be anything dangerous,” Rhett said to the hydrangeas. “If I don’t like it I can just take it out of my garden. I’ll identify it as soon as I can. And if it’s a water-sucker, or a tree that steals too much shade from you guys,” he added tenderly, patting the alder again, “I’ll just try my luck with another small shrub instead.”

Rhett knelt, scooped a small hole in the ground, and placed the seeds inside. He supposed there was little hope of them growing properly if he had no idea what sort of conditions they required, but what else could he do? He would have to remember to water them soon, and hope for the best.

Wiping the dirt from his hands, Rhett went back inside, where the smell of dinner cooking and the laughter of his children soon pushed all memory of the strange man and his gift to the back of his mind. Later, a glass of wine and a vision of pure delight in the form of Jessie in her new nightgown made Rhett forget the day’s events entirely. That night, he slept peacefully, his wife spooning him from behind with her breath warming the back of his neck. 

If he had bothered to take one last look outside, or if he had remembered to water the new seeds as he’d intended, he might have been too shocked to sleep.

Where Rhett had buried the mysterious seeds just hours earlier, there was now a green seedling, already a foot tall.

**

“What in the name of…”

It was very early in the morning. Rhett stood on his porch in his bathrobe with a mug of steaming coffee. His mouth was open in disbelief as he stared at the four-foot tall seedling swaying proudly in the unoccupied place of his dear fallen maple. “Jessie!” he bellowed at the door. “Have you seen this?”

“Have I seen what?” Jessie appeared, holding a bagel in her hands. She looked tired.

“This new tree.” Rhett stared down at it, his hands shaking. “The new tree in my garden. It’s - it’s unbelievable. It can’t be real. It’s incredible!”

“Oh, yes,” she said vaguely. “Yeah, it’s great, Rhett. I suppose I’ll see it better when I take the dog out after breakfast.”

“See it better?” It was right in the middle of the yard!

But for some strange reason, Jessie seemed to be looking right over the very obvious tree at the back fence. _Does she think I’m talking about the honey locust I tried to plant two weeks ago?_ “But, Jessie - ”

“I’m happy you love your garden so much, Rhett.” Jessie yawned. “But I have to go get the kids ready. Do you want me to put on more coffee?”

_You may find that your friends and family…see nothing at all._

Rhett suddenly realized he was clenching his fists so tightly that his nails were digging into his palms. He made a conscious effort to relax. 

“Rhett? Babe?”

“Sure, hon,” he found himself calling back. “More coffee would be great. I…I think I really need it.”

The reflection of his face in the glass door looked shell-shocked. Rhett took several deep breaths to calm himself, not wanting to frighten his family. He smoothed a hand over his hair and gave his own reflection a tentative smile.

_So unusual, but so…appealing…_

_Do enjoy your time in the garden._

**

“What’s the matter with you today?” Link asked as he pulled up to Rhett’s house after work to drop him off. “You’ve been all spacey since I picked you up this morning.”

Rhett was jittery, on edge, his mind consumed with theories and paranoid thoughts and the way the strange man’s skin had looked shiny and polished in the light of the evening sun. “I don’t know, man. I had a crazy thing happen to me yesterday. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh?” Link looked eager. “Something you can tell me, or do you want to save it for a Good Mythical More?”

“It’s not really an exciting story.”

“I want to hear it anyway. We did leave pretty early, could I come inside for a bit? Christy sent me a text. She’s still out at Joe and Debra’s place with the kids.”

“I’m pretty busy, Link.” Rhett undid his seatbelt and opened the passenger side door. 

“Busy with what?” Link asked curiously. 

“There’s just something I have to do.”

“What do you have to do?”

Rhett knew Link couldn’t stand his vague answers. “I have to check on my garden,” he admitted. “It’s important.”

Link shook his head, amused, and thankfully unhurt by this odd rejection. “You and your garden, Rhett. You’re so obsessed with your trees and plants.” He patted Rhett’s shoulder. “You can tell me the story tomorrow, okay?”

“Uh, sure, Link. Drive safe,” he added, as he always did.

“I will. Have a good night, Rhett.”

Rhett walked very calmly up to his door, until he heard the sound of Link’s car turning the corner. Then he broke into a run, half-excited, half-terrified, right through his house with his shoes on. He only paused as he reached for the doorknob on his back door, struck by a feeling of mingled dread and anticipation. _How much did it grow this time? How much did it grow? How much…_

But did he really want to know? 

“I am not afraid of a darn _tree,_ ” Rhett declared, and shoved the door open with force. He strode proudly across his porch, and looked down - no, up - 

The tree was now taller than he was, even with Rhett standing on the porch.

Rhett stumbled backward as he stared at it, disbelieving. This could not be possible. Not even the fastest-growing plant in the world could turn from a seed into a sapling to a thriving fruit-bearing tree in less than twenty-four hours. And Rhett knew it was not an easy feat to transplant a large tree. He could see the roots spreading out from the massive trunk, thick and strong as if they’d been in his yard for decades.

“He came back.” Rhett’s voice was faint. “That man came back and planted you here. Somehow he did it when nobody was looking. He’s trying to play some sort of weird prank on me. I knew there was something off about him.”

_I have been waiting for the right person to come along…_

“What a stupid thing to do,” Rhett went on as he circled the tree. “What kinda kicks would he get out of making me think he gave me magic tree seeds? Does he run a plant nursery? Is he trying to advertise his company?”

In a daze, Rhett reached out and touched the thick trunk. It _felt_ like bark, but something about the way it looked was distinctly - _alien_. It had the same hard marble quality as the strange man’s face.

Rhett shivered at the thought. “Hey, newcomer,” he said to the tree. “You’re, ah…You’re certainly…different.”

_A tree such as you’ve never seen before._

“What are these pod things? How can you be bearing fruit already?”

Rhett couldn’t identify the pods. They were deep green in colour and roughly gourd-shaped. The biggest one was the size of an avocado, but smooth instead of bumpy. He cupped one in his large hand and squeezed very gently. It certainly didn’t feel like an avocado. It was firm but soft, with some give, almost like human skin.

The tree slithered, coming alive with a hiss of rustling leaves and a burst of peppery odor. Rhett yelled and jumped backward, only to realize that it was merely the wind. If trees could talk, this one would be laughing at him.

_What kind of a thought is that?_

It suddenly occurred to Rhett that the pod he had touched was bigger than it had been moments ago. And that the tree was almost certainly a few feet taller. And -

“I’m not going insane.” Rhett closed his eyes very hard and opened them again. The tree did not change. “I’m going to chop you down tomorrow. I’m sorry, but I can’t handle this. I’m going to chop you down, tear out your stump, and never think of this ever again.”

The tree sat placidly, uncaring of the danger it was in. 

“I don’t know what kind of a joke it was, giving those seeds to me. But rest assured, if I see that man again, I am calling the police.” _Oh, sure,_ his mind mocked him. _Call the police and tell them that he’s giving out magical seeds that burst into fully-grown trees in days. That’ll go over well._

“You best not grow any bigger while I sleep,” Rhett continued threateningly, poking the tree’s trunk. “At least you smell good,” he added grudgingly, as he sniffed his oil-slick fingers again. The smell brought him to his senses and he grew calm again. Better than calm, actually. He was beginning to feel oddly happy.

“I’m going to go to bed now,” he announced to the garden at large. “I’ll be back to get rid of _you_ as soon as I wake up.”

**

Sleep did not come easily that night. 

_Why hasn’t my family noticed it? How big is it now? What are those pods? What’s inside them? Will the tree grow so big that the house is in danger?_

Rhett, in bed, lay awake past midnight, his thoughts racing, his skin prickling.

_Why don’t you go out and check on it?_

But it was far too late to be running around in his backyard.

 _Check on it._ The voice in his head sounded urgent.

_No, I won’t. I need sleep._

_Check on it, now._

_Why? What’s there to check on?_

_I think you already know. You feel it, you smell it. Something’s coming. Something’s coming, and it’s related to that tree._

He could smell cloves and pepper, he wasn’t imagining it. Something very important was happening in his garden. Sweating, Rhett threw off the blankets and stole downstairs in nothing but his pyjama pants and slippers. Even the night air wasn’t enough to make him feel normal again. As he approached the dimly lit tree, he began to feel weak in the knees.

It was much bigger. It was bigger than his alder, bigger than any other tree on the block. The tiny pods on the tree had grown into balloon-sized monsters, swollen and pale. Rhett touched one tentatively and found his finger covered in a fine scented oil. When he put his finger to his nose, his lips and nostrils tingled. _Is it poisonous?_

Suddenly Rhett noticed that one of the pods was opening, splitting down the side like an overripe fruit. That peppery, spicy smell emanated from the pulsating gash. Rhett, frozen in place, could do nothing but watch the split widen further and further. It looked like something giving birth. The soft glow of the solar powered lights placed strategically around the yard gave him plenty of light to see by.

With a faint _pop_ , the pod burst open like some strange flower. Inside, a pale green rod-like stick or fruit or vegetable stood proudly erect. It was absolutely drenched in the same sort of fragrant oil that covered the exterior of the pod.

“What in the world!” Rhett was fascinated. He wrapped a hand around the new branch-like thing and gave it a squeeze. He laughed out loud - he couldn’t help it. It was such a pleasurable sensation. He stroked it up and down, loving the slide and silky texture of it. The scent in his nose grew stronger by the second. Rhett felt incredible, so warm and relaxed and blissful. Stepping closer to the tree, Rhett laid his face against its strange and soft bark.

The tree shuddered at his touch and the firm rod in his hands pulsed.

Rhett yelped in surprise and let go, eyes wide. As he tried to back away he tripped over something rough and scratchy. He shouted in surprise, arms flailing. Just before he hit the ground, two of the regular branches of the tree reached out and grabbed his arms.

Rhett, suspended over the ground, stared in disbelief.

“Did you just save me?” he asked the tree. “After I threatened to chop you down?” And then reality caught up with him. “Why did you - Wait, why can you move? What the hell are you!?”

Then he noticed what he had ‘tripped’ on. Thin branches were crawling up his legs like snakes, growing, slithering, tightening -

Rhett tried to scream but no sound seemed able to come out. 

It was already too late to run. The branches had moved up past his knees now, and the other branches held his arms tightly to prevent him from reaching down and tearing them away. Tiny leaves sprouted along the length of the branches even as they grew before Rhett’s eyes. Everything the tree did was so distracting that Rhett barely noticed that the weight of the plants was dragging his pyjamas down until cold air hit his bare behind.

“Hey,” he spluttered, pushing at the branches. “Hey, get off me! Stop that! What the heck is going on?”

Their strength was surprising. Rhett could not get them to budge. Were they actually _trying_ to pull his pants down? As soon as the thought crossed his mind, two of the branches reached up and seized his elastic waistband. They were as deft as fingers and infinitely stronger.

“N-no! Stop! What are you - ”

The branches tugged and his pants came off easily, pulling the slippers with them. Rhett, now completely naked, struggled harder as the smaller branches quickly regained their grip on his ankles. He looked down to see vines sprouting from the tips of the branches, thick tough vines that spiralled around his calves for an iron-tight grip Rhett knew was inescapable. One look over his head and he saw the same phenomenon affecting his wrists. 

Rhett whimpered, wriggling and fighting as best as he could. But it was no use.

The tree bent and twisted, easily manipulating Rhett’s body. If it so desired, it could likely rip his limbs right off or stretch him like a medieval torturing rack until all his joints were dislocated. Rhett was terrified only for a second, and then the sweet delicious scent of the sap filled his brain with elation and he went still. The tree did not want to hurt him. It wanted something, but his death was not it. It took him longer than it should have to realize that the oil-like substance was having a distinct drug-like effect on him. It seemed to be making him almost relaxed enough to fall asleep.

_Soporific_ , thought Rhett.

Other pods began to split and burst, the inner green smooth branches presenting themselves proudly. The smallest was the width of a finger; the largest, as thick as Rhett’s wrist. They all shone dully in the light of the garden lamps, covered in their slick oily sap. Once the outer shell of the pods fell away they were free to be waved about by the branch they grew from, and one by one the tree rubbed them against Rhett’s bare flesh. 

Rhett, ticklish as ever, sucked in a breath and suppressed a giggle as the velvety tips skidded across his stomach, leaving shiny trails. They rubbed against his arms, his bound wrists, pushed into his palms. Rhett closed his hand around one particularly large branch and felt its hardness and its smoothness. His groan echoed through the backyard. A thin trickle of desire was making its way through his blissful daze.

_This oil stuff’s not soporific. It’s an aphrodisiac. Oh, dear Lord…_

More vines burst forth, bending Rhett’s knees now and binding his calves to his thighs. Fear and anticipation pulsed through his veins. Never had he dreamed that it could feel so good to be so completely helpless. It didn’t take long for Rhett’s cock to become rock-hard and dripping. He ached to touch himself, but there was certainly no chance of that. The vines held him too tightly.

Rhett watched with bated breath as one of the of the smaller green appendages from inside the pods poked against his inner thigh and slid upward. He groaned as it grazed his sack and then dipped behind, teasingly slow, to rub its slippery tip across his hole. Rhett tingled with anticipation, but was tense and hesitant. He could do nothing to stop it if it hurt. And he wasn’t even sure if he would care.

But the thing did not penetrate him. Instead, it moved in slow, teasing circles around his rim, getting him nice and wet, but waiting, waiting for…could it be permission?

Rhett shuddered again. _Oh, I want it inside…I do, I want it so bad…_

“Yes,” Rhett whispered out loud. “Yes, do it. Please.”

He couldn’t help the little whimper that burst from his lips as the smooth branch thing nudged its way inside his opening eagerly. It did not hurt, but it was immediately intense. Rhett stared between his legs as he watched more and more of the tree’s fruit disappear inside. Dimly he wished he had a mirror to see what his hole looked like, stretched around the pale green stick.

When it was fully sheathed, Rhett remembered to breathe again. He wriggled as best as he could, feeling the way the fullness in his ass brought jolts of pleasure at different angles. It was nice just to be filled up but he thought it could feel even better if he were allowed to move, or if it began thrusting in and out of him. He wriggled harder, wondering if the tree knew what he was asking for.

Barely a second later he got his answer.

“Oh,” Rhett gasped as the appendage suddenly wiggled inside him, surprisingly mobile for what he thought was a branch. “That feels…so good… gosh, please, give me more. _Please_.”

The small pod-fruit withdrew, and another quickly took its place. This one was larger - about the size and shape of a regular cucumber but less rigid. It looked like a shiny green tentacle as it writhed and wiggled its way into position and started to push inside.

This time, it did not slip in easily. Rhett had played with his ass before, but had never penetrated himself with anything larger than a finger. It took quite a bit of nudging, and Rhett forcing his body to relax, to get the tentacle branch to pop inside the ring of muscles. He groaned at the mix of pleasure and pain, letting his body go still, submitting completely to the tree’s desires.

Slowly, lovingly, the branch began to slide in and out in an imitation of sex. The discomfort quickly faded and Rhett began to moan each time it thrust smoothly up inside him. His eyes closed and his hands opened blindly. The tree wasted no time in slipping one of the biggest tentacle-branches into his hand eagerly. Rhett tried to pet it as best as he could with his wrists still bound by vines.

“Yes,” he moaned wildly, “Yes, yes, give it to me, do it hard.” He wondered if he could take the thick branch that was in his hand and his heart fluttered at the idea. 

The branch inside of him pulled almost all the way out - Rhett drew a breath, shaking his head, not wanting it to leave - and then pushed back inside him with force, deeper than he would have thought possible. Wildly, he looked down at his stomach, half expecting to see the outline of its tip pushing against his skin there. 

“More,” Rhett begged again. “Fuck me. Use me. Whatever you want…”

The tree bent further over him and slid more branches under his back, lifting him off the ground. This way it could manipulate his body into whichever position it desired. Rhett was so overcome with pleasure that he became dizzy and lost his grasp on time. He knew only that he was being fucked deep and hard from every angle, his prostate being firmly rubbed and caressed by the expert tentacles as they explored the depths of his body and stretched him to his limits. He was pressed face-down against the tree and bound completely from neck to ankle, his cheeks held apart, helpless to do anything but lay there and take it. Then he found himself being flipped over to face the ground and angled so steeply that he was practically dangling upside-down. The blood rushed to his head as he continued to be plowed ruthlessly by the determined branches. Just when he thought he might faint, he was turned over again and gently set on the ground with his back against the thick trunk. His arms were stretched around the trunk and tied there as his ankles were yanked up and apart. The vines were kind, constantly shifting so as not to leave his wrists and ankles too bruised. Whenever his hands were free, Rhett petted the vines, the trunk, the pod-tentacles, the leaves, every bit he could reach. The tree even allowed him to reach behind himself with one hand to feel where his hole was stretched around the invading branch. 

“Wow,” Rhett gasped, as he felt how deep the tentacle was penetrating him. “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop…”

His cries of pleasure were curiously muffled and he knew somehow that the tree had created a cloak of privacy around them both, so that nobody could overhear or see their strange coupling. If anyone had managed to look into Rhett’s backyard at that moment, they would see nothing at all unusual…except, perhaps, an inexplicable shimmer like a mirage over the spot where the magical tree currently stood.

Rhett felt so open, so loose and used. Oil dripped down the cleft of his ass and soaked his thighs. He lay helpless, groaning, as each of the pod-tentacles had its turn, the small ones sometimes pushing their way in two at a time and wriggling independently until Rhett thought he might burst with pleasure. Rhett loved every second of it.

“Let me,” he moaned deliriously. “Let me touch myself, please, I need to come, I need it…”

The branches refused to let go of his wrists. One of the smaller green tentacle-branches slithered across his stomach and rubbed purposely against Rhett’s swollen and aching cock, caressing it, sliding up and down. It could not curve or grip very well - he was too wet with his own pre-come, and it was so oily it could not gain purchase - but Rhett was so far gone from the feeling of being filled and stretched that it did not matter.

“Aah,” he gasped. “Oh, goodness, oh, oh - _mmmf_ \- ” Another slithery tentacle had suddenly pushed past his panting lips, effectively gagging him. Rhett closed his eyes and sucked tentatively on the firm, sweet-tasting rod which began to thrust in and out in time with the one in his ass. Rough textured vines rubbed hard against his nipples, squeezing them until he cried out around the intrusion in his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head - he was close, so close, so unbearably racked with pleasure that he could not think or move or struggle or breathe -

With a muffled yell, Rhett reached his climax, spilling messily over the branches pumping away between his legs. Gush after gush of come spurted forth, soaking himself and the tree both, mixing with the sap and making his thighs and stomach glisten. When his cries turned into soft groans, the big tentacle in his mouth gently withdrew and the one inside of him slowed its brutal thrusts. 

Finally, Rhett’s aftershocks eased, and the branch withdrew from his hole. Rhett was a sweaty, panting, oily mess. The vines tying him up unwound slowly and slithered back into the tree, petting Rhett's skin affectionately as they went. Rhett was left on his back in the grass, naked and ravaged, covered in the scent of pepper and cloves and come.

“Thank you,” Rhett murmured, wiping his dripping brow. It took him some time to find the energy to stand up on legs that shook like a newborn calf’s. He turned and stared at the tree incredulously, then laid his face against its bark again for a moment. The tentacle-things were shrinking, retreating back into the little knotholes along their respective branches. Rhett did not notice, nor would he have cared.

He barely remembered stumbling back into the house, or turning on the shower, or falling into bed still naked with his damp hair soaking the pillow. Rhett fell asleep almost at once, utterly exhausted, his used body sore and aching and utterly satisfied.

The night drifted by, hour after hour, and nobody was there to witness the strange tree shrivel up and retreat into the ground from whence it came, leaving absolutely no sign that it was ever there to begin with.

**

Something brushed his side.

Rhett sat up in bed so fast that his back forgot to hurt at the sudden movement. Jessie stirred beside him, murmuring, her dark hair fanned across the pillow. Rhett stared down at her, his panic ebbing at her familiar and lovely face. It was her hand that had brushed against him, of course. The edge of his panic wore off and Rhett got his breathing under control. He looked around the room fearfully, but nothing seemed awry.

_The tree. Last night, the tree…_

Rhett swung his legs off the side of the mattress and lunged at the window, looking down at his backyard with his heart in his throat.

There was no new tree, magical or otherwise.

_Just a dream. It was all just a dream. Of course it was…_

The grey dawn was beginning to creep over the horizon. His alarm would go off very soon. Rhett was glad. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep any longer after a dream like _that_. He flushed to remember the details, and felt further shame when he realized that he had woken up with -

“Morning wood,” he said out loud. “Ha, ha,” he added without humour. 

_Am I going insane?_

Rhett quietly slipped into the shower to take care of the hardness between his legs that he knew would not go away on its own. He vehemently ignored the faint smell of sap and the way his fingers needed an extra thorough wash with his apricot exfoliating scrub before they stopped feeling oily. As he stroked his aching length, he most certainly did not think of being restrained, held down against the cool earth as his legs were spread, opened wide for the wiggling prehensile limbs of the magical tree, eagerly prodding and wiggling their way inside him and -

“You know,” Rhett said to his alder tree afterward, as he stood in his backyard with his coffee. “Maybe I need to find a new layer. Maybe I’ve taken this garden obsession a little too far.” 

It was too early to leave for work, but Rhett craved a distraction from the lingering images of his disturbing dreams. He decided to drive to Link’s house, stopping at Starbucks along the way to bring Link a pumpkin spice latte and get a nice mocha for himself.

“Hey, Rhett!” Link waved to him from the front door, and gestured at him to go around to the gate at the side of the house. “Meet me out back, will you? I’m just finishing with the fence repairs.”

“Sure!” Rhett called. He made his way to the gate and reached over it to undo the latch. Link’s backyard was a mess, full of toys and patches of torn-up ground from where Jade had been digging. Rhett shook his head and sympathized with Christy, who tried so hard to keep the gardens looking good. As he heard Link open the back door and tromp noisily down the wooden deck stairs, he noticed a new arrival in the middle of the yard. Link, or maybe Christy, had built a little miniature cage around it to protect it from the kids and the dog.

“You bought a new tree?” Rhett asked Link, surprised by this random decision.

“Actually,” Link chirped, dropping his tools carelessly into the daisies. “Funny story, really. I just planted it yesterday. I swear! I don’t know what it is, but it’s growing so fast. It’s magical!”

“Where did you get this from, Link?” Rhett’s mouth had gone drier than dust. Everything seemed to slow down. He stared at Link, dumbfounded.

Link didn’t notice Rhett’s shock. He waved a hand animatedly. “This weird guy stopped me on the street in front of my house and said he was a fan of our show. He gave me these seeds. Said he was waiting for the right person to come along. He said he could see what I needed, whatever that means, and promised I’d have a good time. I don‘t think Christy likes it, though. I asked her about it and she just gave me a funny look and said that she had no idea what I was talkin’ about.” He shrugged one shoulder. 

“Link, listen to me. You’ve got to - ” Rhett began, then stopped as new images flooded his brain. Link bound with vines that crept beneath his waistband. Link, overcome with the scent of the sap, slowly relaxing into submission. The tree treating him gently, lovingly, rubbing the slippery sap over his self-proclaimed tight hole until it was red and swollen and ready to be fucked, making Link feel so good that he begged for more -

“I’ve got to what?” Link was perplexed.

“Never mind,” Rhett smiled, and put an arm around Link’s shoulders. “You’ve gotta learn to…just relax, and have a good time in the garden.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very, very sorry (but not really).


End file.
